


shivered bones

by whiskeyandguns



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Night Terrors, Nightmares, sleep paralysis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-09-18 06:03:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9371324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiskeyandguns/pseuds/whiskeyandguns
Summary: Soldier: 76 wakes to the staccato rhythm of his heart, fast and uneven, threatening to burst from his chest if it gets any faster, if he can’t calm down.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Late fill for "How We Were - History / Decay," which I interpreted loosely. Title is from "Terrible Love" by The National.

ii.

Soldier: 76 wakes to the staccato rhythm of his heart, fast and uneven, threatening to burst from his chest if it gets any faster, if he can’t calm down. His first instinct is to reach for the pulse rifle next to the makeshift pallet he’s sleeping on. The blanket is thin, it’s no relief from the hard floor digging into his hip, the solid pressure against his ribs and shoulder, the chill rising from it and settling inside of him.

When he goes to move, he can’t. He struggles to even suck in a deep breath, can’t even open his mouth, move his jaw. It’s too low light for him to make anything out but the blurry shapes of his surroundings without the visor on. He can barely see, anything that he would want to say is caught in his throat, even his vocal chords stilled.

And then he can feel it.

The shadow of the Reaper cast over his body, the weight of his form pressing against his body, pushing against his back. He can’t look over his shoulder, still pinned by something gripping every muscle in his body, couldn’t see him like this even if he could move, but he can _feel_ it in the marrow of his bones. The glow of deep red eyes, too many, flickering in the shadows. The whisper of smoke in the air, the constant shifting form of the Reaper’s mass. He can’t even hear it, can only hear the rush of blood in his ears, the pounding of his own heart.

The pinprick of claws in his chest, gripping his heart, the force making it beat faster and faster.

 _Coward_ , is all that he can think, caught in the hold of theshadowstheclawsthegazeofredeyes. He closes his eyes, breathing in the largest gasps that he can manage, willing, _forcing_ his body to calm down so he can regain control of himself and then--

Daylight slowly filters through the window, casting beams of light into the room of the abandoned building where Soldier: 76’s body lays stiff. It isn’t until it reaches his face, that he wakes, slowly. His body and mind are groggy, he feels like he’s been hit by a truck. But he’s awake, he’s _alive_.

He pulls himself up, ignoring the aches and pains in his joints and his sore muscles, makes out the color and blurry shape of his visor so he can grab it and put it back on.

There’s no sign of the Reaper. All of his things are in place, his visor appears untouched and is functioning as expected, his gun is right where it had been when he had fallen asleep. Everything is exactly as it had been. It doesn’t make any sense--he can still _feel it_ . The sick feeling of the _thing_ pressing against his back, trying to force the air out of his lungs and the beat from his heart. It hangs over his consciousness like the oily shadow that it is, leering at him through his memories.

There’s a spike in his heartbeat at the memory of it, the panic.

Not for the first time, he doesn’t understand why he’s alive. Whatever it was--the sour taste lingers in his mouth, the oily shadows in the periphery of his memory. He tries to shake it off, but it lingers like a stain. Whatever it was--he's compromised. Soldier: 76 gathers the few supplies he has, and moves on. He doesn't have time to wallow in his feelings and fear, he has a mission to complete. 

 

i.

 

Jack woke to the staccato rhythm of his heart, fast and uneven, threatening to burst from his chest if it gets any faster, if he can’t calm down. His body moved of its own accord, as if to bolt upright, but he’s held back by strong arms and the warm body against his back. 

“Jack, hey, you’re okay, you’re with me.”

It takes him a moment to process the the soothing voice, the comforting feeling of arms around him. Once he does, he relaxes and sinks back into the bed. He rests a moment before rolling over to face Gabriel, who is looking at him with drowsy concern.

“You okay?”

“Think so. Just a bad dream,” Jack replied, voice still raspy and tired with sleep. The residual edge of panic was melting away under Gabriel’s embrace as the other man pulled him in closer, pressed a soft kiss against his forehead.

“Hey, you’re okay now. You’re safe with me,” Gabriel reassured, pausing for a moment before speaking again, “Anything you wanna talk about?”

Jack was silent as he thought, he couldn’t even remember exactly what had been so frightening. It was on the tip of his tongue, the edges of his memory. Whatever it was, he could only remember vague impressions of darkness and cold. The distant memory of red eyes, too many, was already fading with every moment of consciousness, even as he tried to recall it.

“Can’t even remember it,” he finally said, but he didn’t waste the opportunity to press closer into Gabriel’s embrace. As if his arms and his warmth could chase off the last vestiges, the sour memory, of the nightmare.

“Good, can’t be worth stressing out over then. Think you can go back to sleep?”

“I’ll manage.”

Gabriel hummed softly in response as Jack closed his eyes, to see if he could chase down sleep again. It didn’t feel particularly close, but even if he couldn’t manage to fall back asleep, there was no need to keep Gabriel up. He was just a few days back in from a long mission, and Jack knew he was still exhausted from it.

Neither of them said anything else. Whatever remained of the nightmare, it was as Gabriel said--if he couldn’t remember it, it wasn’t important. All that mattered was that Gabriel was here, had made it back in one piece again. They were together. Jack focused on that comfort, the barely expressed sense of relief, the steady rhythm of Gabriel’s breath. Everything felt calm and slow. These were the moments Jack relished, just the two of them, no titles and no eyes on them. It was just Gabriel and him, comforting each other and falling asleep to the comforting pressure of arms around each other and the sounds of each other’s breath.

**Author's Note:**

> tweeted about this idea a while back, wrote something super short, and decided to add on just a bit more for r76 week. if you're interested in more half baked ideas, i'm @ darlindeath


End file.
